Forty Winks
by JaycenMackenzie
Summary: After passing out in the middle of Central Park, Clint's secret of insomnia isn't secret anymore. Natasha is concerned for Clint, but she can't help him without him getting angry. In Stark tower, can Clint overcome his insomnia? One shot.


**A**ny other person walking along a path in Central Park would see us as any other couple. They would see us talking, laughing and smiling, not knowing who we really were. It was a perfect evening for a walk. Not many people were in this side of the park, so we were able to walk in peace.

I turned to look at Natasha, and down at our intertwined hands. She smiled and leaned closer to me.

"Clint," she said, "what's wrong? You've got a funny look on your face."

"It's nothing, Nat."

I knew that she could see right through my lies, but that answer had become my standard one.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Liar. Tell me what you're thinking."

I continued to walk, but she pulled me back. She had a firm grip on my hand.

Sighing, I gave in. "The battle. I can't- I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop thinking about how easily Loki took over my mind. I told him everything, Tasha. That bastard controlled me, and I was defenseless. I can't sleep. I-"

"Stop," Natasha ordered. "Clint, stop it. None of that was anything we've ever learned. We weren't trained to battle magical forces, gods or aliens."

"I know-"

"Then why are you so stressed? It's not your fault."

I couldn't focus anymore. I realized just how sleepy I was before my legs went weak and I collapsed on the ground, Natasha not strong enough to hold me up. I could hear her voice as a distant echo, calling my name repeatedly.

Everything went black.

My hearing returned first. The sound of a television with its volume on low was all I heard at first. The second thing was the familiar voice of Bruce Banner. I tried opening my eyes and found a bright light shining in my face.

"What the-" I covered my eyes with my hands. "What's going on?"

The light shut off with the sound of curtains closing. I dropped my hands and looked at the doctor in front of me. I appeared to be in someone's apartment and was lying on a leather couch.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"Stark tower," Bruce said, handing me a glass of water. "Natasha called me saying that you passed out in the middle of Central Park."

I flushed. "So why am I in Stark tower?"

"I live here now," Bruce said. "Tony finished renovating last week and actually prepared a floor for each of us."

I was still confused. "Each of us?"

"Yeah, there's a floor for me, you, Natasha, Steve and even for Thor."

I laid back down on the cushions. I wasn't sure of what to think or say. This was the first time I had passed out on my own, without anyone knocking me out. I was still dazed.

"I see that Sleeping Beauty has awakened." Tony had just come out of the elevator with Natasha in tow. "Did you have to kiss him, Bruce?"

"Ha, ha," I said, sitting up again.

Natasha sat beside me on the couch. She took my hand and squeezed it lightly.

"You alright, Clint?" she asked. "Sorry to bring you to Stark's place, but I didn't realize that Bruce was living here."

Tony made an indignant noise. "'Sorry to bring-' Hey, I'm the one who built a living space for all of you guys! You should be grateful."

It was hard to be grateful for the sarcastic billionaire, but I nodded my head in what I hoped looked like agreement. I was tired, so I was zoning out of whatever Tony was saying, and almost fell asleep on Natasha's shoulder when the elevator dinged. Out came Steve who stopped short at the sight of all of us crowded around the couch.

He nodded. "Um, hey, everyone. Tony, Pepper said that you should order something to eat soon."

"On it, Capsicle." Tony called for JARVIS and started making orders to the shawarma place that we went to after the battle.

Thinking back to the battle, all I could remember were fragments of screams, explosions and a bright blue light all mixed into one blur, and I squeezed my eyes shut to block out the memories. I almost collapsed again, but Natasha held me up with a concerned look in her eyes.

"Clint?" she said. "What happened?"

"Later," I said, rubbing my temples for the sudden headache.

She sighed and stood up, pulling me with her.

"We're going to check out our floors," she announced to no one in particular.

Tony smirked. "Have fun up there, love birds."

We ignored him and Natasha led me into the elevator and clicked the button that had a symbol of a bow and arrow on it. I assumed that it was my floor, because each of the other buttons had pictures of an Arc Reactor, a white star with red and blue circles around it, the hammer Mjolnir, a green fist and a gun.

Once we arrived at the floor, the doors opened to reveal a space just as big as the room we were in before. It was designed in a contemporary fashion, with a flat screen TV on one wall and a wall of windows with the view facing the streets below. There were a couple grey couches with a couple purple cushions. Down the hallway, there was the open door of a training room with targets lined up in a row, and several arrows in boxes. My bow was hanging on the wall, and a couple extra ones were under it as well.

I wanted to look around more, but Natasha grasped my hand and dragged me to the couches.

"How long did you sleep, Clint?" she asked, staring me in the eyes.

"What do you mean?" I said. She didn't say anything more, so I said, "Maybe a couple hours."

"Every night?"

I knew that it wouldn't be good to lie to her. "Yeah."

"Why?" Natasha asked. "You know that can't possibly be enough sleep for any human. Even for someone as strong as you. Are you- are you afraid of sleeping?"

Many emotions ran through me at the same time: fear, anxiety and finally, anger. I tried hard to keep my anger in check, but my built up emotions were getting the better of me. I didn't want to freak out in front of the others, and the other times I'd gotten angry, I'd been alone in my small apartment. Half of my possessions were in pieces on the ground or in the garbage.

I took a deep breath and stood up, pacing around the couches, occasionally kicking them. I knew that I should calm down, but I can't. The lack of sleep was finally getting to me. A month of only a couple hours of sleep each night wasn't enough for anyone to run on. I was drinking coffee. A lot of it, so that I could stay awake during the day. At night, I would drink myself drunk so that I pass out. There was no way I would tell Natasha that, so I content myself to storming around, avoiding her eyes.

"Clint, calm down," she said, taking my hand again. I wrench it out of her grip, my breathing still heavy. "Clint,_ please_. Just sit for a moment."

"Do you understand, Tasha?" I said, closing my eyes. "I can't calm down. I'm afraid, that if I sleep, or let my guard down for just a bit, Loki will take over me again."

"But he can't," Natasha said.

"How do you know?" I snarled. "He's a freaking _god_. How do you know what he can't do? Just leave me alone."

Natasha seemed to have had enough of my waspishness, and she glared at me.

"You think you're the only one with troubles sleeping? I've talked to Stark, Banner and even Steve, and none of them are able to forget what we've gone through. I can barely sleep through the night either, Clint. You and I have both been in situations where we've barely made it out alive, but this- this was different. I actually feared for my life because I had no idea what we were up against. If you don't want me to help you, then fine. I'll leave you alone."

She stomped away, back into the elevator and jabbed a button. The doors closed, and I heard the elevator begin to descend.

I sat down on the couch, placing my head in my hands. I was exhausted, but there was no way that I was sleeping right now. Instead, I went to the kitchenette on the other side of the room and spotted a coffee brewer. I found a pack of coffee and a mug, and began to brew some coffee. After I made my coffee, I ventured down a hallway which had a couple doors: one that led to my bedroom, which was decorated just as my living room was and one to a big washroom with an indoor Jacuzzi.

I finished the cup of coffee quickly, but didn't bother to make another cup. I decided that I would go down to a bar after everyone else was asleep. I didn't want to encounter anyone else, so I stayed on my floor and turned on the TV. Sprawled out on the couch, it was so comfortable that I felt my eyes drooping shut. Forcing my eyes to stay open, I got up to brew another cup of coffee.

Several coffees and two movies later, I realized how late it was. I looked to the clock and saw it was past midnight. The curtains were still open and I saw the sky was dark, with only the lights from the buildings lighting up the sky. I assumed that everyone was at least on their own floors by now, so I grabbed a sweater, my phone and my wallet and took the elevator down to the lowest level that elevator could take me. I ended up on the floor that I was when I regained consciousness that evening.

I was about to open the door to the outside hallway when I heard someone clear their throat. I turned around slowly and saw Steve on the couch, reading a newspaper in the dim light of a lamp.

"Clint," he said, putting down the newspaper, "where are you off to?"

"Nowhere," I replied curtly, placing my hand on the doorknob.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Steve said. "Tony has an alarm on that door and the one in the lobby so that no one can get in after midnight. Or in this case, out."

I made a low growl, smacking the door. "So Tony is keeping us prisoners here? No freedom?"

Steve sighed. "I know you can't sleep, Clint."

"Did Natasha tell you?"

Steve shook his head. "No, but I could tell. You've got bags under your eyes, and you reek of coffee." He paused. "I'm not able to sleep. I've been asleep for seventy years, and I can't even use alcohol," he shot me a knowing look, "to make me pass out."

I sighed, stepping away from the door. I sat down next to Steve, moving the newspaper aside.

"What was it like?" I said. "What was it like waking up after seventy years?"

"Terrifying," he said bluntly. "I wasn't able to grow old with my friends. I missed their entire lives."

I looked down at my hands. "So that's why you don't want to sleep. You don't want to miss anything more."

Steve nodded slowly. He leaned back against the couch and turned the TV on, clearly not wanting to say much more. I got up and left him alone after bidding him good night.

I went back to the elevator, and decided to go back to my floor. I went to my room and changed into my pajamas. I felt my phone buzz, and saw that it was a text from Natasha.

'_You asleep yet?_' she sent.

'_No. Why?' _I replied.

'_Come up to my floor. I can't sleep either.' _

The layout of her floor was basically the same as mine, but had red cushions and black couches instead. Rather than just a training room, there was also another door that led to a walk-in closet.

Natasha was seated at the island in her kitchenette. She had a cup of hot chocolate with little marshmallows floating at the top. I smiled a bit at the sight of it. Already dressed in her pajamas of a camisole and shorts, she stared, almost unblinkingly at the marshmallows in her cup.

"Are you alright, Tasha?" I asked, sitting on the stool next to her.

She shook her head. "Nightmare," she whispered, closing her eyes.

I took her pried her hands, which were tightly gripping the mug, and took them in mine. She was shaking slightly. Standing up, I walked her to the couch and wrapped her in my arms. She didn't say anything, but kept her eyes closed.

I whispered to her, brushing her red hair out of her eyes. "It's going to be okay. It was just a dream."

She shuddered and opened her eyes. "I know," she said. "But it was so realistic, Clint. You don't know how much it scared me."

I held her closer to me, and this time, she buried her face in my shirt. I've never seen her broken down like this before.

"Shh, Tasha," I murmured, stroking her hair. "It's okay. I'm here."

Natasha looked up at me, quickly wiping tears away from her face. "That was the problem," she whispered. "You were there. And I had to- I had to kill you. They made me-"

I held her face in my hands, and pressed my lips against hers. She stopped trying to talk, then began to kiss me back. I pulled away a few seconds later.

"Maybe we can sleep tonight, Tasha," I said, pulling her up.

We went down the hallway and I opened the door to her bedroom. I peeled back the blankets, and sat at the edge of the bed.

She shook her head. "I'm not ready, Clint."

"I didn't mean _that,_" I said, my cheeks reddening a bit. "I just thought that since neither of us could sleep on our own…"

Natasha still looked nervous.

"I promise that I won't kick you off the bed by accident," I said, grinning. I held my hand out for hers.

Finally, she gave in, and took my hand. I pulled her in the bed next to me. With our hands still intertwined, I used my other hand to draw the blankets back up over us. I turned to face her, and saw that she was already looking at me.

"Thank you, Clint," she whispered.

I put an arm around her and drew her closer to me. I kissed her again, and murmured, "Good night, Tasha."


End file.
